Big Ass Man in the Big Ass Sky, with a Big Ass Plan? Why God Why?
by x Bout as Stable as the Wind x
Summary: Myths show no mercy. Its why even iron breaks. Why even the most flawless of armor could crack, and let the doubt poor through. Drain away the arrogance, flood the soul inside with a panic-inducing confusion. Myths show no mercy, Tony knows. Tony thinks. Tony doubts. [oneshot]


"Don't do this."

 _Don't do what_? The mental retort is sharp and quick and oh, if he'd said it aloud he could just picture how she'd react. With **_that_** look in her eye, telling him that this time, she wasn't going to put up with his shit. All pursed lips and eyes that, though asleep moments ago, had awakened within seconds and now bored through him like a laser, locked onto the heart that only **_she_** could reach.

" ** _Tony_**."

He hated how she said his name. Firmly. Ordering. **_Loving_**. He cringed from that tone mentally like the snow from the sun. Jaw set even tighter – how had he not cracked a tooth by now? Fingernails dug into soft palm flesh. Knees drawn to chest, sweat making gray t-shirt cling to a tense, **_too tense_** back. Breathing sharp, in and out, in and out. Forced.

 _Relapse_. Scribbled on the clipboard and papers of the psychiatrist he'd be scheduling an extra session for; or that **_Pepper_** would be scheduling an extra session for. If it were up to him, he'd be 'heavy metal healing', blasting metal, wearing metal. Trying to be metal, if you wanted to get deep and personal. Metal doesn't **_flinch_**.

"Tony, look at me."

 _No_. Every movement, every breath, it screams the possibility of two extremes – he's trying to get her to come to him, to comfort him, to drain the love and warmth from her arms while making her feel like she **_had_** to give it. Either by pretending to be rock hard and not need it, or vulnerable like he can't face her.

 _Because that's how he works_. He'll take, and he'll pine, and he'll play the **_damaged card_**. Isn't it? Wasn't that how it worked? Wasn't that how he raked in the cash, the glory, the fame, the love? He didn't even know anymore; didn't know what was genuine, and didn't know what was him just playing and **_manipulating_** and doing things in life how he didn't things in business. He didn't **_know_** ; fancy that. How messed up was the mind of the genius billionaire playboy?

Little demons snuck their way in at some point; after New York, after Scarlet Witch, after **_something_**. But they'd snuck in, they stayed, and they scrambled thoughts and doubts and confidence until there were no lines, no distinct facts. Just fog. So much fog. Fingers fisted in the fabric of pajama bottoms; muscles didn't **_tremble_** , but they stayed rock hard in tension so that occasionally, a spasm or two would emerge, and a chill would scurry down his spine. He felt like he had a fever, everything sore and numb at the same time.

"Look at me, Tony. Look at me."

She should leave. Would it not be better for her? If he yanks his head out of his ass for a few moments, he can almost say he's being selfless at that thought.

But then the demons came to mess things up again.

Was he only thinking this so he can 'call' himself selfless? Is his selfless act actually selfish?

His brain hurt. He's thinking too deep where he isn't good at thinking deep at all. Not without cursing, or drinking, or 'heavy metal healing'. The same track continued through his head, a broken record, over and over and over again. Even the most flawless of armor could crack, and let the doubt poor through. Drain away the arrogance, flood the soul inside with a panic-inducing **_confusion_**. No one was immune from the leaks – not even Iron Man.

It made him angry. Made him **_loathful_** – that he couldn't handle this no matter how high his IQ was, how much he thought about it… there never seemed to be a right answer, or a right solution. He wanted to point fingers. At fate. At God. Why people died. Why he couldn't fix his own head, though he was trying to fix the world. Why Pepper stayed when Pepper should leave. Cause destiny had a plan? Cause fate wanted to play? Because some big ass man in the big ass sky decided He had some big ass plan?

God, he found, was the easiest to blame. He'd always been the easiest. He could demand to know "fucking why", and when he got no answer, like a real lawyer, confirm that "the silence spoke volumes."

 _Because God was a myth_. And myth's don't show mercy.

Pepper repeated herself. "Look at me." Tony did not.

If she'd known? The little debates that went back and forth, sometimes for hours, in this lovely, brilliant, scrambled little head of his. If she tried to persuade him out of it, and gave him a hurdle of problems to try and make him see common sense – he'd have an answer for them all. And then **_they'd_** spin in countless circles, and everything would continue on the broken record track until fine lines and content stillness were nonexistent.

He asked **_why_** again; and the word was asked aloud, without his knowledge. It reached ears that listened intently behind folds of dark red hair; and fingers ran once more along white-knuckles. Slender and smooth.

She knew better than to answer that right away – knew better than to try and argue. She instead let it wear down, let the breaths turn shallow, allowed the mind to exhaust itself. Mind too alive – a gift for the day and a curse for the night. She didn't ask because she didn't have to, even if he thought that it was because she didn't know. Foolish man, so often, so many times. To think he was the only one to have **_doubts_**. Perhaps not as strong as a hyper-active and once-invaded mind was, but the fact that they existed was not some rare disease.

She'd slap that thought out of him, if he didn't look so… **_something_**.

And eventually, the record stopped spinning; not because the debate kept going but because, wait long enough, and the demons stopped dancing. The record stopped turning. The debate stopped **_rolling_**. Eventually, it was out, and the mind was left empty; breathing slow and shallow. Eyes blinking blankly at the darkness between his knees. Sweat dried and turned cold. Lips parted instead of pursed.

She'd stopped moving as well; one hand on his knee, the other patiently on his lap. Episodes weren't often, but when they were, she was ready.

Even Iron Man had his doubts, believe it or not.

 ** _Stillness_** ruled the air, until Pepper finally spoke up again; a quiet command. "Tony, look at me."

Tony stopped; held his breath, seemed to try and think but nothing but dead sparks arose to fight it. See when the mind gives away, the heart has to take over; sometimes, things need to break to crank back to life.

Tony looked up.

Pepper smiled.


End file.
